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Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.

Edmund Spenser

Sweet breathing Zephyrus did softly play, A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan’s beams, which then did glister fair.
EDMUND SPENSER

Breathe Fair Light Play Soft Spirit Sweet
In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn’d himself first to subdue.
EDMUND SPENSER

Himself Learning Wasted
For deeds to die, however nobly done, And thoughts of men to as themselves decay, But wise words taught in numbers for to run, Recorded by the Muses, live for ay.
EDMUND SPENSER

Action Death Live Man Thinking Wisdom Word
So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortal life the leaf, the bud, the flower.
EDMUND SPENSER

Day Flower Life Mortal Pass
So much more profitable and gracious is doctrine by example than by rule.
EDMUND SPENSER

Grace Profit Rule
The Patron of true Holinesse, Foule Errour doth defeate: Hypocrisie him to entrappe, Doth to his home entreate.
EDMUND SPENSER

Himself Home Hypocrisy True
All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
EDMUND SPENSER

Love Sweet Voice
She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowers That in the forest grew.
EDMUND SPENSER

Beautiful Flower Forest Growth Herself Love Relationship Rose
Fretting grief the enemy of life.
EDMUND SPENSER

Enemy Grief Life One Liner
Her angel’s face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.
EDMUND SPENSER

Angel Eyes Face Greatness Place Sunshine
Greatest god below the sky.
EDMUND SPENSER

God Greatness Sky
Yet is there one more cursed than they all, That canker-worm, that monster, jealousie, Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, Turning all love’s delight to misery, Through fear of losing his felicity.
EDMUND SPENSER

Curse Feed Happiness Heart Jealous Lose Misery
Like as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate.
EDMUND SPENSER

Absence Cry Friendship Herself Loss
For if good were not praised more than ill, None would choose goodness of his own free will.
EDMUND SPENSER

Choice Freedom Goodness Praise Sick Willing
No dainty flower or herbs that grows on ground, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweet, but there it might be found To bud out fair, and throw her sweet smells all around.
EDMUND SPENSER

Flower Growth Herself Sweet
How many perils doe enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.
EDMUND SPENSER

Adversity Fall Flower Right

Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.

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Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.

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